What I can do
by HarvestMoonChild
Summary: AU: set between ELAC and Bloodlust. One Winchester decides to rewrite history to give his brother what he thinks he needs. Chapter 5 up and story Completed
1. Chapter 1

What I can do Chapter 1

Warnings: none really some swearing angst and pain, AU after IMTOD and ELAC what could've happened in between times.

Disclaimer: Not mine so don't sue

A/N: This one's actually finished!! I decided to post the first chapter unbetaed cause I'm too excited to wait for all of it to get polished so don't blame carocali for any mistakes she only got the one story about 10 minutes ago. I promise If Only is on its way as soon as we finish polishing it. Now on with the story!!

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2:37 A.M., and he watched his brother sleep, he felt guilty for drugging him into this quiet slumber but it had to be this way. Sleep, real sleep was too rare a commodity to count on these days. He'd only a few moments left to make this memory before it was done. He didn't know what would happen _after_, but at least he'd have this memory, this moment, to hang on to, his brother at peace even if only in dreams. It was easier this way; it had to be easier than what they'd been doing so far, slowly picking each other apart, ripping open wounds that hadn't even started to heal. His brother needed this so much more than anything he could provide and honestly it was a relief to know that for him it would all be over, that he could, _no_ would set things right. 

He felt the presence join him in the room and he instinctively stepped between it and his brother's bed, as a cold hand rested briefly on his shoulder. It would be able to collect its payment soon enough, he wouldn't let it have anything more.

"It's time, are you ready to begin?"

He turned away from the man sleeping on the bed, grateful that their quiet conversation wouldn't rouse him. He didn't try to stop the soft stream of tears that tracked down his face. The pain in his soul becoming too much to bear, for a moment he considered backing out and not doing this, just sitting here instead to wait for his brother to wake and finally talk to him, he'd tell him what was going on in his head, whether he wanted to hear it or not. Then he was swamped with the wave of shame and guilt, and squared his shoulders. Placing the envelope in front of the alarm clock where it was certain to be seen he made his decision.

"I'm ready, you're sure he won't remember, until it's over?"

"I'm sure."

He searched those cold, dead eyes for a hint of deception but couldn't find any or maybe honestly he just didn't want to see it if it was there. He took the hand that was offered to him and he let himself be slowly led from the room. He gazed back over his shoulder one last time, drinking in the sight of his brother, as the door swung slowly closed he whispered the words he could never say when his brother was awake.

"I love you."

* * *

"_Where the hell are they and why're we still here in the first place?"_

He thought a spike of irritation running through him at the thought of the time they were wasting. Running a hand through his hair he stalked out to the front porch to stand and listen for the sound of that stupid wreck of a minivan to return.

Truth be told he'd felt twitchy since waking up at Bobby's earlier this week with no real idea of when or how they'd gotten there. Bobby kept assuring him it was the remnants of his concussion and it would get clearer with time. His memories from the hospital were vague at best and something seemed to be tickling the back of his memory, leaving him feeling like he was out of step with the world, which only made him more annoyed that they were still stuck at Bobby's waiting for the damn car to be fixed.

He'd spent most of his life solving puzzles, but this one had him stumped. He can't place what's wrong but _something_ is seriously off. Sighing in frustration he stalked back through Bobby's house, checking the wards and the salt lines finding nothing amiss, he resigned himself, however impatiently on waiting for the minivan's return so they can continue restoring the Impala. Just thinking about the car, and what they have left to finish leaves him with the urge to get back on the road and get moving again, but to do that they _need_ the car, so it's come full circle and he's back to waiting.

'_They seem to be taking their sweet ass time though, might as well get the laundry done, be quicker to get on the road that way'_ He thought as he ducked back inside heading for the room they'd been bunking in since their departure from the local hospital.

'_At least I don't have to haul it all to the laundry mat for a change'_ smiling at the thought of being able to get this chore started and doing something meaningful other than watching the dryer spin at the same time.

'_You'd think I never taught him to pick up after himself._' He admonishes to the air as he collects jeans and shirts from where they've been haphazardly strewn around the room they share. His right foot catches on something and he trips, falling, only his quick reflexes keep him from plowing face first into the end of the bed, instead he's sprawling nearly under the edge of the bed, his feet near a half unpacked duffle. He glared at it angrily, then realizing it's too far back to be the culprit that caused his fall; he continues to search the area near his feet, seeing nothing he decides he's more tired than he thought.

_'New plan, get clothes in wash and hit the couch with a beer and wait for those no good lay-a-bouts to return.'_

He's almost on his feet when his eyes catch a fluttering sheet of paper near the edge of the bed. Curiosity getting the better of him he plucked the letter off the ground and started to scan it and when he feels the strange prickling of something _other_ moving up his arm. Acting on instinct, he reflexively starts to toss the paper away from him; as the paper flies free, the words he's read suddenly take on meaning, without realizing it a sob escapes his throat as he collapses heavily onto the edge of the bed, hands shaking and his breath coming out in a hiss, he gingerly picks the rumpled sheet of paper off the floor. "Dear god, what have I done?" he asked the room around him.

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John sat on the edge of the bed, rereading his son's final words to his brother. As he read through the letter a second time he felt the same tingle start up his arms. He waited to see what would happen if he allowed the contact to continue. Moments later he felt the compulsion, faint though it was to drop the paper and pay it no mind. John realized then the paper had been enchanted to make the reader forget about its existence after completing it, but like most charms of that type, it seemed it seemed to have a specific target and when the spell couldn't wrap around John it collapsed in on itself. 

There was a small pop as if the air pressure suddenly changed in the room and with it came a new level of realization. The room around him began to change and for the first time John got a look at what had caused his fall in the first place… a duffle bag. All around the room things began to appear, a knife in its sheath, clothes piled on a chair that John would've sworn was empty earlier. With the physical changes came the memories and now the final puzzle piece fit.

'_I don't belong here.'_

He remembered it all, the crash, and Sam's determination to save his brother, his own decision, the deal with the demon. Grief, love, and fear tore at his heart he took in the contents of the room around him, reveling in the memories of his boys, he'd known that the boys would take it hard when he was gone but he'd never expected one of them to resort to something like this. He'd made his decision to die in Dean's place and had accepted the consequences of his actions. Now with a heavy heart he left the bedroom, letter in hand, to wait on the porch for his son's return, dreading that he was going to have to destroy his son by telling him the truth of what the brother he had no memory of had done for him.

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A/N: So what do you think? Unlike If Only this one is already finished and will be up in full over the next few days. It should be 3 or 4 chapters at most. Chapter 32 is still being polished but we have hopes and 33 is not far behind again thanks for the support!! 


	2. Chapter 2

What I can do Chapter 2

Warnings: Nothing out of the ordinary; AU what could've happened between ELAC and Bloodlust

Disclaimer: Not mine don't sue

A/N: Thanks to everyone who likes the story so far. Special thanks to carocali for cleaning this chapter up, As I said the story is complete and will be up as we clean each part up. Now on with the story!!

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God he hated this - sitting in the passenger seat. He let his gaze drift out the window as the unchanging scenery passed by. It was wrong. All of it. And no matter how much he tried to ignore that wrongness, he just keeps putting one foot in front of the other. Every time he had a moment of peace or the silence stretched too long it would be back again digging away in his mind. He looked over at Bobby driving the stupid minivan again. He knew he'd never be happier than when he'd no longer be stuck in the passenger seat of this monstrosity; it just wasn't right. He'd hoped he'd seen the last of it after he ditched it when it got too hot to drive on their last hunt. 

_'Why do I keep thinking someone was with me?' _

He knew he'd faced that crazy clown freak alone; he'd been hunting on his own for years ever since... He stopped for a moment, startled that something about that thought brought back a piece of a memory,

_"Dad lets you hunt alone?"_

_"Dude, I'm 26."_

A chill went down his spine and for a moment something floated just out of his reach, but then it was gone. He turned his thoughts back to all he'd learned since coming to Bobby's this time. He knew his father wasn't happy that he'd found out about the roadhouse and had talked to Ellen and the other hunters that frequented the place. But what he couldn't understand was why, if Ellen said that his dad had been like family to her once, he wouldn't go with him there. It was just another screwy puzzle piece that didn't seem to make any sense. He kept having the feeling that he was missing something..._someone _important but he couldn't figure out who.

He sighed heavily as they crossed the property line of the junkyard happy to be back. They'd managed to come up with the last of the parts needed to get the Impala up and running again and he knew his dad was ready to be on the road and hunting as soon as they could.

To be honest, that was part of what was bothering him so much. His father had always been a driven man, but his behavior since they'd left the hospital for Bobby's place had thrown him for a loop. John seemed vague at first as if maybe the crash had more of an impact than it appeared, but after a few hours he seemed to snap out of it. Although every now and again he'd catch his dad staring off into space. Obviously rolling something over in his mind but unwilling to share it with his son. While there was a comfortable camaraderie between the two of them as they slowly put the Impala back together, it seemed they were doing it for different reasons.

He was pulled from his thoughts when the minivan coughed and rattled to a stop. Helping Bobby unload the parts they carried them to the porch, surprised to see John sitting there waiting for them.

"Dad? Everything ok?"

"Yeah son, just tired is all. Why don't you take those out back to the car; I need to talk to Bobby for a minute."

"Yes sir," he replied, turning and making his way through the yard to where the Impala sat waiting.

Bobby watched him go and then turned back to face John. "What's going on?"

"I'm not supposed to be here, Bobby."

John opened his mouth to say more, but when his throat closed up with grief, he simply closed it again, handing the paper to Bobby and letting it tell the tale.

Bobby's eyes grew wide as he read the letter. When he finished he looked over at John, sitting still as a statue staring off into the distance where his son was waiting for him.

"John, I had no idea…"

"I didn't think you did, Bobby, but why would he do that? What happened to them, Bobby? The spell on this is pretty complex, not mention the power it took to hide all traces of him from us - from the world until it that spell collapsed. Why would he go looking for something like that? I taught the boys to be fighters not commit suicide," John finished angrily.

Bobby took a deep breath as the world rewrote itself and he too became aware of the holes in his memory that he'd been overlooking until now. He knew John was hurting, but in he felt an obligation to both of his boys for John to understand the pain they'd been dealing with since his death.

"John, your…dying caught them both off guard…it wasn't something they were ready to deal with. They've been walking around here like ghosts for days, barely eating or sleeping. I know they were hurting but they never said a thing, not even to each other, unless they had to."

"I taught them better than that, especially Dean. He knew he needed to look out for Sammy."

John felt the wash of anger and it felt good. Better then the cold numbness he'd been surrounded by since reading the letter. But just as suddenly Bobby froze that rage leaving nothing but shame in its wake.

"You wait a good god damn minute there, John Winchester. You taught those boys how to survive, I'll give you that, they'd willing lay down their lives for each other, but you never taught them how to survive _losing you_. Do you have any idea what you meant to those boys? Dean _worshipped_ you, he was your right hand; you were his general in battle and above all his father. How was he just supposed to deal with that? And Sam…did you ever think what your death did to him? He's losing himself in guilt, the only thing he's said to me is that you died thinking he hated you. Nice gift to leave your baby with, huh, John? So, when you look to someone to blame for this you shouldn't look too far past your own nose on this one."

"You're right," John said quietly, looking up at Bobby, devastation clear in his eyes.

"Well damn, I never thought I'd live to see the day John Winchester admit he was wrong. So what do we do now?"

"We tell him the truth and then we find a way to put it right."

"John, there may not be a way."

"There is, Bobby, there _has_ to be. The boys need to be together; whatever it takes we'll put this right."

He heard the crunch of gravel as he worked under the engine of the Impala.

"Dad, that you?"

"Yeah, can you come out from under there for a minute; Bobby and I need to talk to you about something."

"Sure."

Dean wiped his hands on an oily rag and slid out from underneath the car. Squinting up into the sun, he locked eyes with his father. The sadness reflected in them caused Dean to swallow a lump in his throat as his pulse picked up in fear. "Dad?"

"Maybe we should do this in the house…" John started to stall

"John, just do it. You'll have to read it to him. The spell's meant for him so if he reads it again we're back at square one."

Dean looked from Bobby back to his father, confusion clear on his face. "Read me what? What spell? Would somebody speak English please and possibly give me a full sentence so I can follow?"

"I need to read this to you, and you need to hear all of it. There's no easy way to do this just know that I won't judge you by your reaction," John said simply and then started reading.

_Dean- _

_You're right, but then again you usually are when it comes to me. It is too little, too late and there really is nothing I can do about that now. All I can do is try and set things right. We all know that the wrong Winchester walked away from the wreck. This all started because of me and it should've been up to me to end it. I've watched you everyday since dad and I can see this hole opening up in you, in me, and it's filling the space that's between us and I can't stop it. I don't know how. I tried to reach out to you, but you won't or you can't hear me. Not any more. Not since dad._

_Maybe I am a selfish bastard but I hope that dad didn't die thinking that I hated him. It's still one of the biggest regrets of my life that I never got to tell him what he meant to me. And that I get it, I finally get what he was trying to do. How by making us hunters he was doing the only thing he could to protect us; to show how much he loved us by making sure that we knew how to stay alive. The thing is with everything he taught us, I still don't know how to help you, Dean. I've tried everything I can think of but I'm not him, and I never will be. Every time I close my eyes, all I see is you drowning in your grief, in your rage, and when I try and throw you a line you won't acknowledge me. You don't see me._

_I lost a father but you lost so much more. You lost the man that was larger than life, the man you want to be. To you he's always been that way; father, hunter, protector, mentor and hero, and now that he's gone, it feels like you've lost your reason to be. The only thing that seems to matter to you now is fixing the car; to breathe life back into the one piece of dad you have left._

_I heard you the other day in the junkyard, after I left, I wanted to come back and stop you. To keep you from doing something you wouldn't be able to fix but I was too much of a coward. I was afraid to have that anger turned on me, knowing that I deserved it. Because no matter what anyone says, in truth it all comes down to me. It began because of me and now finally it **will** end with me_

_I know when you finally are able to remember this you're going to be pissed with me, but I hope that in the end you'll see that this was something I could do that wasn't too little or too late. When you do remember, if you can find it in you, please tell dad that I'm sorry our last words were spoken in anger and that no matter how much we fought I've always loved him. Tell him that I'm sorry that I wasn't the son he wanted me to be. But at least by doing this I'm trying to be. _

_Please be safe, Dean. I need you to know that without you, I never would've made it out of the apartment the night Jess died and even if I had I wouldn't have ever lived again if it hadn't been for you. This last year has meant more to me than anything else, the chance that I had to get to know you and connect with you again as my brother and my friend is what I take with me. Hopefully, if there is something beyond this world I will see you again, one day. Please don't try and find me, know that I am at peace with my decision- you are worth saving and no matter what the demon said, I've always needed you far more than you've needed me._

_-Love your brother-Sammy_.

John's voice cracked as he finished reading his son's words. He looked up to see Dean swaying on his feet, arms clenched protectively around his chest. The tears were running unchecked down his face, his lips moving but no sound coming from them. Bobby reached out a hand to try and steady him, but Dean flinched away only pulling his arms in tighter around himself to keep the grief and pain at bay.

Dean felt like the world had been pulled out from under him. His entire body was alight with pain. The damage the demon had done was nothing compared to the realization that he'd forgotten the person that meant the most to him in the world. That he'd been blissfully ignorant that Sam, his little brother, had given himself up to something, because he felt that he wasn't what Dean needed to survive. That he was worth less than their father's life to Dean.

"Sam…How? How did we forget Sammy, dad?"

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A/N: Hope you enjoyed more to come soon!! 


	3. Chapter 3

What I can do - Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Not mine don't sue

Warnings: None really just a lot of angst; AU set between ELAC and Bloodlust

A/N: Here's chapter 3 hope you all enjoy. There are only 2 chapters left after this. Thanks again to carocali for the great beta. Now on with the story!

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John could only look at Dean with understanding and sympathy reflecting in his eyes. "Dean you didn't have a choice. From what Bobby and I've managed to piece together as, soon as you read the letter it was done. It may have actually been before that the spell on the letter was designed to make you forget."

"It shouldn't have worked…I should've been stronger than that." Dean's knees buckled and he landed hard on the ground making no move to catch himself.

Dean allowed himself to wallow in the pain as he tried to wrap his mind around what he'd been told. He felt the first prickling of rage and let the feeling come - embracing it - to wash away the pain. Pulling himself back to his feet, he rounded on Bobby pushing him bodily against the frame of the Impala.

"Did you know, Bobby? Did you know what he had planned?"

Bobby blanched as Dean loomed over him. "No! Dean I wouldn't do that to you or Sam."

"Then how? How'd he manage to pull this off? He had to get the information from somewhere."

Bobby looked desperately from Dean to John. In his heart Bobby knew he didn't give Sam the information but he'd never asked Sam what he was doing when he spent all those hours pouring over the old texts he'd collected. Looking at both of them imploringly, guilt shredding his own heart at the thought of what he might've enabled Sam to do. "You have to believe me…John, Dean…I never thought to ask. You know Sam," he paused staring out past both of them, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "The boy was always trying to absorb any information he could, better researcher than the three of us combined. I didn't think leaving him with my collection would come of anything. I was just trying to give him a way to deal…"

Dean growled, pushing Bobby against the car again, relishing in having someone to take his anger out on. "You gave him a way to deal alright; did you give him what he needed to complete the spell too? Huh?"

"Dean, enough!"

Dean whirled around facing his father his breath coming in rough pants. "But…."

John faced both men with a heavy heart. "Look we need to focus here and find a way to fix this. Bobby, do you have any idea of how and where Sam might've done this? If we can find the location this was started from we might be able to find a way to reverse it."

Bobby was still bent over at the waist catching his breath from Dean's earlier chokehold. He straightened up, contemplating the possibilities. "It's most likely that Sam made a deal with something and the spell was to seal the deal. You said that when the spell broke you could see Sam's things again?"

"Yeah, they appeared all over the room I've been sharing with Dean. We've been stepping around them for days. I tripped on his duffle this afternoon and never saw it."

Bobby swore under his breath and then started jogging toward the house. "Come on, I think I know where he might've done this," he shouted over his shoulder.

Dean and John fell into step behind Bobby, a memory flashed into Dean's mind. "_Damn it_, Sam and I…we had a fight," he said looking over at John, shame evident in his confession "After, he started using the _other_ bedroom," Dean growled as he raced past John soon overtaking Bobby as well leaving the two older men following behind as he tore toward the ramshackle farmhouse.

"Dean!" John called out to his son, trying to get him to slow down and wait for them, but he'd already cleared the front porch disappearing inside the house.

They caught up to Dean standing in front of the closed door, his head leaning against it. "It wasn't here this morning; I would've seen it this morning," Dean muttered under his breath.

John reached out tentatively to squeeze his son's shoulder. "It's okay Dean, we didn't know."

"I should've. I knew _something_ was wrong but I couldn't figure out what."

I think we all did Dean, but the spell was stronger than our instincts. This isn't your fault." Bobby said quietly behind him.

John looked at his son, part of him grieving for causing his boy more pain. He knew there was no way he'd be able to break through Dean's self inflicted responsibility for his baby brother; just as he knew it was his own fault that Dean was reacting like this. Instead he reached out and tested the knob, feeling the lock refusing to give way beneath it, he motioned Dean and Bobby out of the way before stepping back and kicking the door off its hinges.

As the door flew inward, it was caught up in the energy wave roiling through the room, slamming into the side wall. The three men staggered under the initial blast that blew out of the doorway. Once the initial backwash had cleared, the three were able to make their way into the room.

Dean took in the small musty room with a guilty conscience; the room was little more than a storage space with an old fold out cot squeezed in among the crates of books and other arcane items. Dean sat heavily on the edge of the cot feeling the springs in the ratty old mattress poke him, noting to himself how woefully short this bed was compared to Sam's 6'4" frame. He gingerly reached out a hand, pulling the hoodie to his lap from where it had been laying discarded on top of the old rumpled blanket Sam must have been using when he slept. _If he slept, _Dean thought ruefully, because he truly didn't know. For the second time in his life he was at a loss for what his brother had been thinking, let alone _doing_ since they'd left the hospital with their father's body. He and Sam had stopped sharing the guest room the second night that they'd been here.

The words between them had been sharp and caustic. Dean remembered how he'd felt so empty and brittle inside that he hurt with every thought and every breath. He'd seen Sam's tears as he watched their father turn to ash, while Dean held strong and silent; removed from everything except the one word pounding over and over in his head: "Why?"

Dean knew Sam had tried to seek him out for comfort afterwards; trying to be there for Dean as well. Wanting to help with the pain he was avoiding.

While both of them still smelled of fire and ash Dean couldn't take it. Couldn't take the overwhelming loss; the hole he felt in his heart where his father once resided. He didn't want Sam to feel any better; _he _didn't want to feel any better. Dean wanted Sam to hurt as much as he did, so instead he'd been cruel. And like any other weapon he used when he hunted, he chose his words and actions with careful precision ensuring that they would do the most damage.

He remembered Sam staring at him, eyes wide, still swimming in unshed tears; mouth half open wanting to say something. Dean callously turned his back on Sam and crawled into his bed, ignoring his brother's presence, seeking the oblivion that sleep might provide.

Minutes later he noticed the response never came.

Sam hadn't even taken his bag with him; just disappeared from the room without another word being spoken. Sam had been so quiet in his exit that Dean hadn't even heard the door latch at Sam's departure.

Now he wondered how many hours, or _days,_ after that had Sam huddled on this dingy cot before deciding that his only value to his brother was in trading his life to bring their father back. Just to make Dean happy.

John tried to shut out his heart as he took in the room in one quick glance. He couldn't stop the deep sadness and ache that seemed to pervade his senses. He didn't like what he saw.

John could feel the desperation and hopelessness in the room like it was a living thing. He had never dreamed that his children would feel pain like this. He'd naively believed that his death would bond the boys closer together - and maybe it would over time - but he knew his boys dealt with things differently and somehow this time it had spun out of control. John prayed that once things were set right that somehow they'd understand they needed each other to heal.

The eldest hunter was pulled toward the altar and circle that was set in the middle of the room. The four thick candles continued to burn their flames an eerie blue; unmoving in the breeze the circle was generating. On the small altar John saw Sam's knife; the one Dean had given him when he'd left for Stanford. The blood on the blade caused John's stomach to flip-flop. Under the knife was a book, most likely used to summon whatever Sam had called. John started to move into the circle to retrieve the book when Bobby pulled him back.

"You're part of what the circle is generating John, I've got no idea what would happen if you cross into it right now. I'll get the book so we can see what we're dealing with."

John didn't say anything, moving back to allow Bobby past him. The hunter crossed warily into the circle taking care not to destroy any of the markings drawn on the floor. Bobby gingerly picked up the book, leaving the knife on the altar, and moved back out of the circle. Once he was clear he took a deep breath and let out a string of curses as he looked at the book he was holding.

"What did he do Bobby?" John asked moving closer

Bobby continued to look through the ancient book that had found its way into the youngest Winchester's hands, knowing that in his own way, he was the reason they were in the situation that lay before them.

"He found a way to call a type of demon, more of a cousin of theirs really, but still as nasty as they come."

"You mean _the demon?_" John asked cautiously. Dean wasn't aware of his father's deal with the demon, but Bobby had probably figured out John's plan based on the list of items he'd asked Sam to get from him With everything else going on he didn't want to add another burden to Dean's already heavy shoulders. John was just praying the Sam hadn't given himself over to the very thing their father had been trying to save him from, just to bring John back to life.

"No, not that demon, it's more like a cross between a demon and a reaper…I think. All I know is that this circle was used to call it."

"A reaper?" Dean stammered, astounded, "we know that a reaper can take life or give it, but you still have to be living at the time. I've never heard of one not only bringing someone back from the dead but supplying them with a body as well."

"It's not exactly a reaper, just like it's not exactly a demon. This thing can use the life force of one person to bring someone else back from the dead," Bobby said frowning as he continued to study the pages in front of him.

"How long does it take to do this, transfer?" Dean demanded.

"At this point, I'm not sure. I'm going to need to translate this to see what exactly Sam did do to make all this happen and see if we can find a way around it."

"We're running out of time, I can feel it," John said, running a hand through his hair.

"I know that, John, just give me a little time," Bobby said, seeing a small note book lying near the pillow on the cot he nodded to Dean. "Grab that and bring it with you. We might get lucky and your brother may have written notes about what he was going to do."

The three men left the tiny room and regrouped in the main room. Bobby sat at the beat up desk working feverishly on the translation in the book. The notebook Dean had picked up contained some notes regarding the spell but mostly was filled with what appeared to be rough drafts of the letter that John had read to Dean earlier. Just seeing those half finished thoughts on paper made Dean feel sick to his stomach again. He'd been tricked into forgetting his brother, and best friend.

The two elder Winchesters spent their time alternating between pacing and attempting to hover over Bobby's shoulder as he worked. At a little past the two hour mark, Bobby finally dropped his pen on the desk and sighed.

Risking a glance at both men, he cleared his throat and went over what he knew.

"Well the good news is that we can reverse this if we can find Sam in time," Bobby began, trying to focus on the positive, but knowing he had to continue. "This leads me to the bad news. Based on what I've pieced together we don't have a lot of time left to find Sam." Bobby looked over to John, "What day was it when you woke up here, John?"

"Tuesday? Why?"

"That would mean that Sam did this on Monday or early Tuesday morning. According to the book it takes an average of five days for the transfer to be completed, give or take, based on the strength of the sacrifice."

"Today's _Friday_, Bobby. So you're telling us we have only hours to find him?" Dean commented, sounding hopeless.

"Based on the spell and the deal Sam probably made, we're lucky that your dad found the letter. Normally, once the transfer is complete, only then is the first spell is lifted and then we'd be able to find Sam's body. As it is now, we have time while Sam is still breathing to find him and complete the counter spell and potion."

"How does it all work, Bobby? Where should we start looking?" John asked desperately, trying to bring a game plan together. "The more we know the better we can map out a search pattern. How mobile would he have been?"

The first step in the invocation is Sam spilling his own blood. It has to be deliberate and in offering to the demon. That way there is no divine intervention in his passing. Free will and all, I'm guessing he used the knife in his room for that," Bobby stated, trying to get the facts on the table. "Normally you'd need the person you're bringing back's blood as well but since you share the same blood he didn't need it."

"Great that just made it easier for him to kill himself," Dean said sarcastically.

Bobby continued on, ignoring the comment, knowing Dean was trying to cope as best he could. "Once the invocation is complete, the demon provides the sacrifice an opportunity to leave a final message for his family; the memory charm is part of the bargain. It uses it to feed off the emotions the letter brings out in the recipient initially. Then it gets its second helping once the ritual is complete and the memories are restored for the survivors. It feeds again from the aftermath of us all discovering Sam's decision and finding his body." Bobby paused to regroup, hearing the words come from his mouth. He continued with the last bit of information he ascertained from the spell book. "Final step is Sam taking the potion that in essence gives his life force to create John, and then Sam goes to the place where he feels most connected to the recipient of the gift; the place closest to his heart."

"So since dad broke the spell early we have a chance at stopping this and saving Sam?" Dean asked excitedly. "There's no weird binding clause or anything?"

"No there's no fine print about selling souls, the demon or reaper feeds off of grief and desperation; the sacrifices and recipients. The power it has provides it a way to feed and a way to lure in prey. To answer your question Dean, if we can figure out where Sam's at we've got a shot," Bobby added, squeezing his shoulder lightly. "When you're daddy here broke the spell it allowed us to see Sam's things, which means the spell hiding Sam from sight should have weakened as well. What we need to do now is figure out where to start looking."

They all contemplated the idea for several moments when Dean started talking out loud. "It has to be someplace close. If this thing's only interest is feeding then it wouldn't let Sam wander too far away or we might never find him. If we don't find the body then it doesn't get the pain of us discovering that it was right under our noses the whole time."

"Good thinking, Dean," John said pride clear in his voice. "We should start here in the house, top to bottom and then move out to the yard from there." John paused swallowing thickly hating to ask a question that would open up another wound. "Dean where did you…."

Dean blanched as the unfinished question settled in his brain. The reality of the situation crashing in on him. He'd cremated his father only days before but now the man was standing here helping him search for his dying brother. "Out past the Impala…"

"Of course, the car," Bobby said. "It makes perfect sense."

"What?" both men asked Bobby.

"Don't you see? The place he felt closest to the recipient, whether the spell means the person Sam was intending to bring back or the person he was doing this for, the answer's the same. He'd be in or near that car." Seeing the confusion still reflecting in both sets of Winchester eyes he continued.

"John, the car was yours before you gave it to Dean; it's the one place that has always been home to Sam. The constant in your life as a family. It's the place where he knew you'd be at Dean. It's the only thing you've shown any interest in since getting here. He's got to be there, we just haven't been able to see him."

Dean took off running; his heart in his throat. He didn't wait to see if his father or Bobby would follow him out, he only knew that he needed to get to Sam. His father's dire prediction that they were running out of time laid heavy on his mind. Dean couldn't bear the idea that they wouldn't find Sam until it was too late.

Sam had to still be alive, he had to.

* * *

Hope you all enjoyed, as I said only 2 more to go, before we reach the end.


	4. Chapter 4

What I can do - Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Not mine so don't sue

Warnings: AU set between ELAC and Bloodlust,

A/N: Here we are second to last chapter. Thanks to everyone for reviewing the story and letting me know you enjoyed it. The ending is coming up soon. Thanks again to carocali, the wonderful woman who manages to put up with my horrible comma problem. Hope you enjoy!! Now on with the story!

* * *

Dean skidded to a stop as he neared the rear of the Impala, moving slowly in the fading light. The yard was quiet and Dean couldn't help but notice that the new dog Bobby was training was sleeping on the ground just in front of rear tire well. As he moved closer, the dog picked up his head and growled lowly at Dean, watching him closely. The hunter stilled his movements and remembered how all of Bobby's dogs seemed to take a liking to Sam over the years. He held his hands out toward the dog as he came to his feet and nuzzled Dean briefly before returning to its spot in guarding the car.

"You've been keeping an eye on him this whole time haven't you?" Dean stated quietly to the dog, amazed that the animal had been able to sense what he hadn't. He thought over the last several days realizing the dog had never been out of the sight of the car for more than a few moments at a time. "Here I thought it was me you liked. But you've been making sure that Sam's been safe even when we couldn't see him."

Dean inched to the frame of the car, careful not to make any sudden movements and startle his new friend, peering inside the mostly missing interior of the car. The only thing there at this point was the rear bench seat; the first piece he'd reinstalled in the car once he'd unbent the frame.

Seeing nothing but a long expanse of black leather, Dean felt his heart drop. He'd wanted Sam to be here, _needed_ him to be. Dean turned to flag off his father so they could start hunting elsewhere when a flicker of motion caught his eye.

The bench seat was no longer empty; he could make out the faint image of his brother curled up on his side, hands wrapped protectively around himself. Dean reached a hand out to touch him but the image flickered out and was gone and Dean could feel nothing but air beneath his hands.

"Sam!" Dean yelled as the image died away. "NO! Come on, come on, let me see you again little bro," he sobbed out his plea again "I need to see you Sammy…_Please"_

John and Bobby arrived moments later, "Anything?"

"Just for a second he was there, and then he was gone again," Dean said hopelessly.

"He's still there, Dean. If you managed to see him it means that the spell has weakened some. We can break it," Bobby said confidently. "Just focus and see Sam. The spell should collapse, like the one on the letter. It's designed to hide what you don't know is there, but you've seen him so you can break it."

Dean took Bobby at his word and looked back inside the car and willed himself to see his brother. "Come on, come on, be there," He chanted under his breath

To John it looked like a mirage in the desert. He watched, stunned, as a wave of energy appeared across the back seat of the car and then receded like a curtain, leaving his younger son's shivering form huddled on the seat.

Without a thought both of the elder Winchesters climbed into the hulking frame of the car; John crouched near Sam's bent head, Dean near his curled legs. Sam had attempted to make himself as small as possible on the seat. Small tremors wracked his body continuously, sweat standing out on his skin even in the cooling air. Dean could see the sickly grey-green color of his skin and was scared they were already too late. Reaching out a shaking hand to gently brush Sam's arm, he was surprised when Sam whimpered.

"Sam?" John asked quietly brushing the hair out of his son's face feeling the heat radiating off of him.

Sam opened his eyes and looked back and forth between his brother and father. A wild light flared in his eyes. "No, no, no, you aren't supposed to remember, they promised you wouldn't see. Don't see, please just let me go…it's a good trade, a good trade," Sam said curling into a tighter ball trying to hide, John felt the words cut him to the core as his son unknowingly repeated the same words John had used in making the deal with the demon.

Dean left his hand resting on his brother's trembling arm, he felt like he was flying to pieces. He was ecstatic that they'd found Sam, angry with his brother at scaring him this way and terrified that this was still far from over and that he still might lose Sam.

He gave his fear a voice asking the question he needed to know the answer to. "Why Sam, why'd you do this?"

Sam looked up locking tired scared eyes on Dean's. "You need him more than me," Sam whispered swallowing convulsively, "It's almost done, just let me go Dean, please." Sam turned away from his brother's touch, feeling, again, the hurt that drove him to make the deal. "I've watched you with him for the last 4 days. He's what you need. He can keep you safe," Sam paused, a hitch in his breath, "safe from me." A tear fell down the broken man's face as his reality was unveiled to Dean. "I'm cursed. Everyone around me dies…can't watch you or him die again, I can't." Sam closed his eyes, not wanting to see the hazel orbs staring back at him. "Let me do this, for you, just take him and walk away."

John sucked in a harsh breath, hearing it mirrored by Bobby who was hovering just outside the car. Dean appeared to be in shock at his brother's request to leave him to die. He suddenly drew in a deep breath and the heat and rage in his voice took everyone by surprise. "You think it'd be easier without you Sam? You bastard, you're the only reason I'm still walking around and you don't get to decide what I need _Sammy_, I need you here with me…you can't leave…" his voice broke his anger giving way to hot tears. "You don't get to leave me again."

"Dean, we need to move him," Bobby interrupted quietly. "I need you to help me. I don't know what too much contact with John will do with the spell and all."

Dean looked at John and then out the car to Bobby, nodding his understanding. "I've got him."

Sam's eyes opened again as Dean and Bobby slipped their arms under Sam to pull him from the car. Sam started to struggle weakly, trying to bat the arms away. "No, please, just let it be done, it's a good trade."

It didn't take much to subdue Sam his energy fading rapidly. "John, clear off the couch in the front room. We'll be right behind you," Bobby instructed the eldest Winchester who ran off ahead. He then turned his attention to Dean. "We need to move fast. I don't know how he's going to handle the move."

Dean didn't answer Bobby but leaned over his brother, whispering into Sam's ear. "You hang on for me Sammy, just don't let go."

He received no response.

* * *

By the time they got Sam situated on the sofa he was gray and barely breathing. John was waiting, quickly draping a blanket over his son's shivering form, before turning to look at his old friend. "What now?"

"Well according to this, we've bought ourselves a little extra time," Bobby stated as he looked over the ailing man on the couch and the pained men beside him. He picked up the ancient text, paging through it for the next steps. "We need to feed Sam the counter potion and that should set the reversal into motion. Then we need to return the three of you to the circle. John you'll need to deny the gift Sam is offering you, giving your essence back to Sam and then time should reset to when Sam attempted this little trick, everything back to the way it should be."

"I don't like it, Bobby. Something's too easy about this. If time resets how do we keep him from doing this again?" Dean asked, still hovering at the end of the sofa watching Sam.

"You just need to trust me, Dean," Bobby stated, patting the man on the shoulder. "I need the knife Sam used in his offering for the potion as well as the letter. Can you go those for me?" Dean glared at Bobby and then his father but moved out of the room swiftly without a word.

John turned as soon as Dean left "So what aren't you telling Dean, Bobby? It's not that easy and why does Dean need to be in the circle. He wasn't created by the spell."

"No, he wasn't, but he was the recipient of it," Bobby began, trying to explain the complicated spell. "You were the gift but it was being given to Dean and all the pieces have to be returned to their original state. Since I'll be on the outside, I'll be able to keep my memory when time resets itself," he continued, holding the book in his hands, "and I'll be there to make sure it doesn't happen again."

John knew that Dean would be back in moments but needed to know for sure. "Even if we do all this, it doesn't mean that Sam's going to survive does it? I mean the demon, reaper thing has been feeding on him for nearly 5 days now. Even if I give him back his energy he's still going to be sick as hell from that won't he?"

"Yeah, he will John, we could still lose him. Would you rather stay than take the risk?" Bobby asked looking hard at John

John's face lost all color at that thought, "No, god no, Bobby I made my choice to save Dean and I would've done the same to save Sam in a heartbeat," John answered, feeling his heart break at all his boys had been through. "I know I don't belong here, but it's so hard to leave them again, especially knowing that they're hurting…I mean I never thought Sam'd do something like this."

Bobby looked at the man standing before him. This was not the man he knew from years past. This was a man who loved his children; sacrificed for them. Did what he thought was best. He smiled.

"They'll work through it, Johnny, I'm just going to make sure that there are no more easy outs. That they deal with each other."

"Thanks," John said quickly clapping Bobby on the back as Dean returned to the room with the requested items, wondering at the conversation that had just occurred.

* * *

An hour later found the foursome back in the small guestroom, John and Dean supporting Sam between them; his breathing having become ragged and shallow after swallowing the second potion. John helped Dean lower Sam to the floor inside the circle Dean supporting him from behind.

John kneeled in front of his sons; tears clear in his eyes. He ruffled Sam's hair with his hand calling to him quietly. "Sammy, open your eyes for me."

"D-dddad?"

"Yeah, Sammy, it's me," John began, finding the words he needed to make Sam understand. The words he should have said all along. "I need you to know that no matter how much we fought I still love you. Don't ever doubt that."

Sam's eyes filled with tears, looking to the man above him, feeling a swell in his pained heart. "I love you too, Dad," he said weakly as his eyes rolled up in his head, before his body went lax in Dean's grip.

"Sam!" Both Dean and John shouted.

"Bobby what the hell?"

"Calm down, He's still breathing," Bobby assured, looking again at the text. "It's the circle. All of you being in it is drawing from his energy. We just need to finish this John."

"Dean."

"I know, Dad, I know. I'll take care of Sam."

"Let him take care of you too, Dean, you both need to heal. One day I hope you'll forgive me for all of this."

Before Dean could respond, John recited the spell Bobby had handed him and Dean's vision filled with white and then everything went black.

* * *

A/N: I promise the last chapter is on it's way!!


	5. Chapter 5

What I can do Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Not mine so don't sue

Warning: AU set between ELAC and Bloodlust

A/N: So we have reached the end of the story, I hope you have all enjoyed the ride. I promise there is more to come on If Only soon. Now on with the story!

* * *

The room was bathed in early morning light when he heard a pounding on his door. Dean pulled the blankets off of him, struggling to sit upright as he barked out, "Come in already."

Bobby opened the door to the bedroom seeing the bleary eyed Dean sitting upright. "Where's your brother?"

"How the hell should I know," Dean growled, swinging his feet over the bed. "Haven't been his babysitter since he was twelve."

"Dean!"

"What!" he answered back in anger. "He's a big boy he can take care of himself."

"Yeah you'd think so, but I found this out of the table," Bobby said, holding up a note book before tossing it at Dean's who plucked it out of the air. "And I think something else is going on," he announced, hoping to get the fire lit under Dean's behind. He'd be damned to go through that again. "So where has Sam been bunking if not here?"

Dean looked guilty as he caught the book and flipped through the pages. After briefly scanning the words, his big brother instincts immediately kicked in and he was moving past Bobby into the hall. "He said he would sleep next door." Dean finished as he knocked gently on the closed door. "Sam? Sam, you awake?" Dean called as he turned the knob under his hand. The door swung open easily and a gasp escaped him as he took in the room.

Bobby stepped inside the room, finding it as he last remembered it. Sam was inside the circle knife still clenched in his hand and the wound on his left wrist was oozing blood. The candles flared and then sputtered out when Dean crossed the circle obliterating the symbols in his rush to reach his brothers side. Bobby moved silently to Sam's other side waiting for this to play out between the brothers before stepping in.

Dean dropped to his knees next to Sam, taking in his sickly pallor before checking for a pulse. He grabbed his brother's face, seeing the tear stains down his cheeks. Dean's heart raced as he looked around the room and then back to his brother. "Sammy? What the hell did you do?" He asked quietly.

Sam felt like his world was on fire, it wasn't supposed to be like this. Dean was leaning over him, talking to him.

_He's not supposed to be able to see me. _He thought blearily.

Sam pulled his eyes open further; a keening whimper coming from him. "No you're not supposed to be here, you can't remember me, have to forget about me," he said in a delirium. "They promised no one would remember me. It's a good trade." Sam stared at Dean, wanting to remember him before he forgot everything. "Go now, don't remember. It's a good trade, he's better than me," Sam babbled before he started a coughing fit that left him limp and breathless.

Dean instinctively knew that whatever Sam had been attempting it was to try and bring their father back. He pulled his brother up further into his hold, trying to assist with the coughing. "I can't forget you, Sammy, never. You can't do whatever it is you're trying to do. Dad's gone and this won't bring him back."

"Yes it will, it _will,_" Sam said frantically, struggling to free himself from his brother. "Just walk out the door and he'll be back and I'll be gone. Everything will be okay again."

"No! Sam, it won't ever be okay again. Dad's gone and he's not coming back," Dean choked, actually hearing what he was saying. Understanding the words for the first time. "We… we have to accept that. You killing yourself won't change that."

"Please, it's all my fault this can fix this, end this…for you." Sam finished, struggling to raise a shaking hand to Dean's cheek. "You won't hurt anymore Dean, you'll never know I was gone, you can have Dad back…better than being stuck with too little too late..." Sam began another round of coughing that left his lips blue as his eyes rolled back in his head. The gentle touch on Dean's face fell away as Sam's arm fell limply to his side with a soft thump.

"Sammy, Sam! Don't do this! Open your eyes," Dean pleaded, as he stroked his brother's face, shaking him slightly.

"Come on, Dean. Let's get him back into the other bedroom. We can check him out from there and get him cleaned up." Bobby said gently, hoping to prevent the tragedy from going any further. He silently cursed himself for letting it get this far along. He had miscalculated how close they were to losing Sam the first time he used the spell. Bobby hoped they were not too late.

Bobby was relieved after listening to Sam's chest. It sounded tight with congestion, but it didn't have the telltale rattle that pneumonia always presented in the youngest Winchester. He and Dean had worked steadily over the three hours to get Sam cleaned up and situated into bed.

He let Dean take the lead, knowing it was cathartic for him to be in charge of taking care of Sam. The knife wound had been cleaned and wrapped and Dean had deferred to Bobby only when it came to listening to Sam's breathing, as Bobby had more experience in field medicine than he did.

"He's picked up a wicked case of bronchitis but I've got enough antibiotics around here to keep it from getting worse. We just need to keep an eye on him and get him hydrated again."

"Why'd he do it, Bobby?" Dean asked sitting in a chair next to his brother's bed.

"You're going to have to ask him about that, Dean," Bobby answered, giving a slight scowl to the young man. "But I think you both need to start talking to each other about your daddy and what his passing is doing to you."

Deans eyes welled up as he looked at his baby brother; his responsibility. "It hurts Bobby, everything all the time, it just hurts. I don't know what to do to stop it. I just miss him," Dean whispered, running a quick finger comb through Sam's hair.

Bobby rested his hand on Dean's shoulder. "Maybe that's what you need to tell Sam, cause he's feeling the same way. Got some awful guilt from what I can see. And somehow he got it into his head that trading his life for your dad's was something you wanted."

"No, I don't want anyone else to die for me. I have my own guilt," Dean murmured, looking up at Bobby, but not willing to explain further. "Thanks"

"No problem," the hunter replied, heading towards the door. "I'm going to make some soup for Sam. See if you can get him up. And don't forget what I said."

"I won't," Dean said watching the older man slip out of the room.

Dean watched Sam sleep; his face peaceful and at rest. He regretted the need to wake him, but Bobby was right they needed to talk. And the longer he put it off the more likely they were to have another one of these episodes. Dean didn't think he could go through this again.

"Sam, hey bro, it's almost lunch time lazy bones, time to wake up."

Sam grumbled in his sleep, but finally cracked open his eyes. "Dean? What's goin' on?"

"Bobby's making lunch," Dean began, looking at his brother, placing his hand on Sam's arm. "But before I subject you to _that_ torture we need to talk, to keep what happened this morning from happening again."

Sam looked down at the bed refusing to meet Dean's eyes. "I .."

"No, Sam I want you to listen to me," Dean said, interrupting him with a wave of the hand. "Since dad…since he died, we haven't, I haven't tried to talk with you. I'm sorry, it's just I can't, I'm not ready, I don't know when I will be, but I promise when I am, I will talk to you about it, about him." Dean stopped himself, taking a deep breath and plowing forward. "I know you want to talk about how you feel and I want to listen I swear I do, and I need you to know that I need you here but please just give me some time. I'll get there Sammy I will." Dean's hand brushed against Sam's arm, feeling the shakes that still encompassed his brother. "But trying to kill yourself is not the way! If you're gone then I will be too. We're a team, we're all that's left and we'll see it to the end. You promised me that," Dean finished voice cracking.

Sam finally stole a glance upward to see the devastation clear in Dean's eyes. But he saw something he hadn't seen since that horrible day in the hospital; he saw hope.

While he knew that it would be a long road before Dean let him in, at least he knew he _would_ eventually let him in. "I won't do it again Dean, I'm sorry too," Sam managed, breaking into a more controlled cough, but settling himself on his own. "After everything that… I thought it was what you needed. I just wanted to do something to help you and everything I've done just made things worse."

"Just be here Sam, just be here," Dean said pulling his brother into a tight hug.

"That I can do, that I can do."

* * *

Hope liked the ending!!


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